The house is unusually quiet.
Morning sunlight spills across the kitchen floor. A plate of pancakes, eggs, and toast sits untouched on the table.
Brooke sits at the counter.
Her shoulders are low.
Her phone rests beside her, face down.
She stares at the plate without touching it.
Bethany walks into the kitchen carrying a cup of coffee. She stops when she notices Brooke.
BETHANY
You haven’t eaten?
Brooke shakes her head.
BROOKE
I’m not hungry.
Bethany looks at the full plate. Then she looks back at Brooke.
BETHANY
That’s funny.
Brooke glances up.
BETHANY
Because yesterday you were perfectly capable of eating.
Brooke looks away. The mention of yesterday makes her expression change.
BROOKE
I’m just not feeling it.
Bethany slowly pulls out the chair beside her.
BETHANY
Brooke, whatever happened with Isaiah doesn’t mean you stop taking care of yourself.
Brooke’s eyes immediately become watery.
BROOKE
I don’t want to talk about him.
BETHANY
Okay.
A beat.
BETHANY
Then don’t talk about him.
Bethany points toward the plate.
BETHANY
Talk about breakfast.
Brooke almost smiles. Almost.
Brooke sits on the edge of her bed.
Her room is quiet except for the faint sound of traffic outside.
She picks up her phone.
She opens Isaiah’s social media.
Her expression falls.
There is another picture.
Isaiah is smiling. He looks completely fine.
Brooke stares at the screen.
She scrolls.
Another post. Another smile.
Another reminder that life has apparently continued without her.
She locks the phone. Then unlocks it again.
She knows she shouldn’t look. But she does.
BROOKE
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
She drops the phone onto the bed.
A knock comes at the door. Bethany enters.
BETHANY
You looked at it again.
Brooke says nothing. Bethany sits beside her.
BETHANY
You know what I think?
BROOKE
What?
BETHANY
I think you’re giving somebody way too much power over your entire day.
BROOKE
It just hurts.
BETHANY
I know.
BETHANY
But hurting doesn’t mean you have to keep reopening the wound.
Brooke takes a deep breath.
Larry walks through the living room.
Brooke sits on the couch with her knees pulled close. She looks exhausted.
LARRY
What’s wrong with her?
BETHANY
She’s going through it.
LARRY
Because of Isaiah?
Brooke immediately becomes defensive.
BROOKE
Can everybody stop saying his name?
LARRY
Okay. Okay.
He walks toward the kitchen. Bethany follows him.
LARRY
She’s barely eating.
BETHANY
I know.
LARRY
She can’t keep doing this.
BETHANY
She’s young, Larry.
BETHANY
Sometimes young love feels like the end of the world.
LARRY
And then one day you wake up and wonder why you cried over it.
BETHANY
Exactly.
Brooke walks into the kitchen.
A plate of food is waiting for her. She stops.
Bethany is standing near the stove.
BETHANY
Sit down.
BROOKE
Why?
BETHANY
Because I’m not arguing with you tonight.
Brooke sits.
Bethany places a glass of water in front of her.
BETHANY
Eat.
BROOKE
I really don’t feel like it.
BETHANY
That’s exactly why you need to eat.
BETHANY
You’re allowed to be hurt.
BETHANY
You’re allowed to cry.
BETHANY
You’re allowed to be disappointed.
BETHANY
But you are not allowed to disappear inside somebody else’s choices.
Brooke looks down. That one lands.
BROOKE
What if I really thought he was different?
BETHANY
Then you believed in something.
BROOKE
And I was wrong.
BETHANY
Maybe.
BETHANY
But being wrong about somebody doesn’t mean you’re wrong about yourself.
Brooke takes a small bite.
BETHANY
There you go.
Brooke sits at her desk.
Her phone is beside her.
For the first time all day, she doesn’t reach for it.
She opens a notebook instead.
She writes slowly.
“I can’t control what Isaiah does.”
She pauses.
“But I can control what I do next.”
She stares at the sentence. A small smile appears.
Her phone buzzes.
Brooke looks at it.
For a moment, she considers checking it. Instead, she turns the phone over.
She continues writing.
The kitchen is bright again.
Bethany walks in. She stops.
Brooke is already sitting at the table. She’s eating breakfast.
BETHANY
Well, look at you.
BROOKE
What?
BETHANY
Eating.
BROOKE
I was hungry.
BETHANY
Good.
Brooke takes another bite.
BROOKE
I still feel bad.
BETHANY
You probably will for a little while.
BETHANY
But feelings don’t stay the same forever.
Brooke thinks about everything Bethany has said.
BROOKE
Do you really think I’ll look back one day and laugh?
BETHANY
I think you’ll look back and wonder why you gave so much energy to someone who wasn’t giving you peace.
Brooke slowly nods.
BETHANY
And when that day comes, you’ll understand something.
BROOKE
What?
BETHANY
Your heart was never the problem.
Bethany points toward Brooke’s plate.
BETHANY
You just forgot to take care of the person carrying it.
Brooke smiles.
She takes another bite.
BROOKE
I’m starting today.
Bethany raises her coffee cup.
BETHANY
Good.
Brooke laughs.
For the first time in days, the laugh sounds genuine.
Her phone buzzes again on the table.
Brooke glances at it. Then she calmly turns it face down.
She keeps eating.
Bethany watches Brooke proudly.
BETHANY
That’s my girl.
Brooke smiles.
The camera slowly pulls back.
The kitchen is peaceful.
She doesn’t have to chase answers.
She doesn’t have to keep checking the phone.
She doesn’t have to stop eating because somebody else stopped choosing her.
There will be other mornings.
Other friendships.
Other opportunities.
And someday, years from now, Brooke may remember this moment and wonder why she ever believed her world had ended.
For now, though, she takes another bite of breakfast.
And that’s enough.